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<title>in you, i see dirty / in you, i taste god by honeypuke</title>
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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24616762">in you, i see dirty / in you, i taste god</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/honeypuke/pseuds/honeypuke'>honeypuke</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Zero Day (2003)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Cuddling &amp; Snuggling, Fluff and Angst, Hair-pulling, I'm Sorry, Lowercase, M/M, Mild Smut, Possessive Behavior, Sad, Self-Indulgent, Short, a teensy tiny bit tho, back at it again with another shitty fic, shooting referenced, they deserve better :(</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-06-09</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-06-09</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 09:56:03</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>800</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24616762</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/honeypuke/pseuds/honeypuke</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>cal is andre’s heaven</p><p>or  </p><p>cal is just really fucking pretty and andre might be in love</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Calvin Gabriel &amp; Andre Kriegman, Calvin Gabriel/Andre Kriegman</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>34</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>in you, i see dirty / in you, i taste god</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>title is from ava adore by the smashing pumpkins</p><p>♡</p><p>even worse than my previous one, but let’s not talk about that</p><p>i blame portishead</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>calvin gabriel looks like purity. andre could almost believe it, be fooled by faline eyes, just barely. he knows better, has seen cal on his knees more than he’d ever admit.</p><p>andre’s love blooms on pale skin, little larkspur petals scattered so sweetly against cal’s neck, ribs, hips, pressed not-so-gently anywhere and everywhere.</p><p>cal bruises so easily, pretty skin veiled by red and violet and honeysuckle yellow; keepsakes.</p><p>sometimes, often, andre’ll catch cal’s thin fingers drift over the skin, trace idly. and then their eyes meet, and cal turns rosy, tucks peroxide curls behind his ear, makes the jealousy coating andre’s insides mutate into the sick sear of <em>need<em>. </em></em></p><p>cal is daisy-pretty, just as delicate.</p><p>the type of pretty that grows like dandelions; sneaks between the cracks of concrete, little bits of stars sprinkled on earth, walked on and trampled but still so pretty.</p><p>andre wants to bottle it, bottle his stardust freckles and blue-forget-me-not eyes, throw it out to sea for some other poor soul to find years later down the line; after they were dead and gone and nobody could have cal, could ever find the boy the beauty belonged to, the boy who once was the closest thing to heaven andre could find.</p><p>cal looks like an angel, not just when he was in andre’s bed with andre in between his legs, his hair a halo on andre’s pillow. always, forever.</p><p>so sweet, so innocent, undirtied.</p><p>andre aches, oh how he does, wants to ruin cal, tear him apart from the inside, devour his pain and prettiness.</p><p>a field of meadowsweet thrives high on cal’s cheeks, pink and devine, watered by andre’s praises; fills andre’s chest with want, want, <em>want</em>.</p><p>cal looks like an angel and feels like one, too.</p><p>♡</p><p>andre’s still not sure if cal is real. it’s too good to be true, like he could slip through his fingers any second now, and he would be alone again with a calvin-shaped hole in his heart and soul.</p><p>he often wonders if cal wasn’t sent from god, a punishment disguised, but then cal’s wrapping those sun-starved fawn legs around his waist, pressing strawberry sheen lips against his, and it’s all gone from his mind.</p><p>andre doesn’t know how cal could manage to look so holy, sound so pious when he’s getting fucked face-down into andre’s mattress, begging him to go harder, deeper, <em>please</em>. andre still can’t get over the way cal makes it sound like a prayer, like andre’s his god, his savior.</p><p>they’re both far from saintly.</p><p>♡</p><p>cal’s hair is like baby’s-breath between andre’s fingers. andre never gets tired of it, never gets tired of lacing his fingers through the strands and grabbing, especially when he’s fucking cal’s throat, blunt fingernails against his scalp.</p><p>there’s something about how cal looks with tears in his eyes, welled up and threatening to spill, roll down cal’s pretty face, make him even prettier. maybe it’s how cal’s doll-lashes clump or maybe it’s the power high andre gets, but it’s all the same to him.</p><p>♡</p><p>they never have to say it.</p><p>the first time it happened, cal was on his stomach, pinned under andre with his fingers gripping the sheets tight, open-mouthed against the pillow, pushing back against andre’s hips.</p><p>somewhere between the moans and the fucked out sobs of please, cal whimpered out an <em>i</em> <em>love you,</em> wet-eyed and flushed pretty pink, picture of perfection.</p><p>andre just fucked him even harder.</p><p>♡</p><p>there are nights that andre can’t sleep, his head filled with images of cal’s baby’s-breath hair turned amaryllis, carmine dyed, perianth polluted with blood.</p><p>he thinks, sometimes, that maybe they could be their own version of mickey and mallory, run and run until they get caught, because even if it’s just a month or a week or a day after they make it out, it’s still more time with cal.</p><p>but he knows, deep down in that little cal-only heart of his, that it’s not realistic.</p><p>it’s nice to dream.</p><p>♡</p><p>as zero day approaches, their free-time is spent side by side, whether it be video games or making out or fucking or just savoring the seconds, bits of euphoria shared.</p><p>he’d never tell it, but andre’s favorite is when they just lay in his bed, when cal’s head is tucked so gently in the crook of andre’s neck, their legs tangled together, their existence made whole.</p><p>heaven, nirvana, paradise. everything above.</p><p>♡</p><p>“do you ever wonder if it’s worth it?”</p><p>“a lot.” cal shifts, moves his hand to lay over andre’s heart. “we could just run away. happily ever after or some shit.”</p><p>“yeah. we could.” andre leaves it at that, kisses the crown of cal’s head, sighs into the night as if it’d make all of his problems go away.</p><p>“i’d like to.”</p><p><em> in</em> <em>a</em> <em>perfect</em> <em>world</em>.</p><p>
  <em> <em> <em> <em> <em> <em> <em> <em> <em> <em>♡</em> </em> </em> </em> </em> </em> </em> </em> </em> </em>
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